


Fluffy Viktuuri Trash

by surrealmeme



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M, Outing, Shopping, Subway, date, restaurant, unadulterated fluff, viktor almost gets lost on the subway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: Really, it's just fluffy trash, in which Yuuri and Viktor go on a date to Umeda, Osaka.





	

            “Minako-sensei!” Yuuri cried. “You don’t even know if he wants to!”

            “Of course he does; I thought even you would know that – he even kissed you in front of everyone after your Cup of China free skate,” Minako replied, fondly exasperated. “Go on, ask him out.”

            Yuuri dumbly nodded, going off in search of his idol, coach, and, recently, boyfriend, Viktor Nikiforov. He easily located the Russian figure skater, his loud exuberance in conjunction with his alcohol consumption, which was thankfully only just beginning, making Viktor impossible to miss; Yuuri couldn’t do it if he tried.

          “Yuuri!” Viktor called as soon as Yuuri entered his field of vision. “Drink with me!”

            “No, Viktor, it’s only four in the afternoon and you’ve already finished that entire beer, haven’t you?” Yuuri chided, with the same fond exasperation that Minako had felt towards Yuuri, except with it being colored with romantic affection rather than familial affection.

            “Yeah!” Viktor enthusiastically replied. “Come on, Yuuri, drink with me!”

            Yuuri, sighing a long-suffering sigh, made his way over to where Viktor was lounging. Today was a “cheat day,” so to speak, and Yuuri’s training was only half as long as it usually was. _We both need to rest, and training can’t be the only thing we do together,_ Viktor had said, to which Yuuri had wholeheartedly agreed. Thus, Yuuri had time to “ask Viktor out,” as Minako had put it.

            “Instead of getting drunk when it’s still light out,” Yuuri first said, somewhat pointedly, “I was thinking we could go out on a day trip to Umeda – of course, you can always stay here with your beer, whisky, and vodka, and I can go with Phichit; he’s in the area, and I promised I would take him around.”

            “Are you asking me out, Yuuri?” Viktor happily asked, setting his empty beer glass down and raising his turquoise eyes to Yuuri’s hazelnut ones, and a teasing glint came into the Russian’s pair.

            “Perhaps. Are you accepting, Viktor?” Yuuri teased back.

            “Naturally,” Viktor replied, and Yuuri lit up with joy and relief, even though he had already known that Viktor would agree to go out with him.

            “Well, then, sober up enough so that you can get through the mess that is Osaka’s traffic and subways; I’m sure that one beer shouldn’t affect Russian vodka-lover Viktor Nikiforov at all,” Yuuri teased, kissing Viktor’s hair before leaving for his room. “There’s hangover pills in the kitchen if you need them, though.”

            Both Viktor and Yuuri were so pleased and proud that their relationship had made it to this point, where they could openly tease and be affectionate with each other, without worrying about boundaries, expectations, or making a perfectly fine situation and relationship awkward.

            Yuuri had checked with Viktor to see if he’d be fine going out around 6:45 p.m.; with an affirmative answer, Yuuri made a reservation at one of his personal favorite restaurants, checked the weather, planned out the subway route, and even managed to find a way to transfer some of the money on his subway pass onto the one-time ticket – _well, it used to be one-time_ , Yuuri thought – that Viktor had used while getting to the airport before the Cup of China competition. _I finally get to be the one that knows the land; I get to show Viktor around the city,_ Yuuri thought.

            Minako poked her head into Yuuri’s room – _What is she still doing here?_ Yuuri wondered – and found Yuuri fervently planning a short, simple “day” trip to the city and smiled.

            _Well, he was never one to half-ass things,_ she mentally remarked.

            Soon, 6:45 rolled around and the two figure skaters were pulling their shoes and coast on at the front door. All of the necessary materials had been safely stowed away in Yuuri’s backpack and Viktor had been made to go change out of his fashionable, yet very flashy, clothes into an inconspicuous hoodie, jeans, and sunglasses.

            _You do_ not _want to experience being mobbed by otakus of any kind,_ Yuuri, Minako, Yuko, and Mr. and Mrs. Katsuki had gravely warned Viktor.

            “Bye Yuuri, Viktor,” Mrs. Katsuki said as they opened the door. “Have fun!” Yuuri did not know that she then turned to Mr. Katsuki and used the age-old “They grow up so fast!” line; Yuuri was subconsciously very grateful for being spared.

            Hand in hand, Yuuri and Viktor walked to the small local subway station in Hasetsu; they took a train headed to  the much, much larger and busier Osaka Umeda Station.

+++

 _“Viktor!”_ Yuuri cried. “That’s the wrong way!”

“Eh?” Viktor asked, turning from where he stood in the relentless crowd that surged in all possible directions.

“Come back! That’s to Namba, not Umeda!”

Realization dawned on Viktor’s face, and he pushed his way through the throngs of commuters. Once Viktor had reached Yuuri, the Japanese man couldn’t help but laugh.

“Viktor, I _told_ you to just follow me; you almost went in the opposite direction. Seriously, Osaka Umeda Station is usually pretty hellish, but this is when all of the salarymen are returning home.”

 _“Yuuri,”_ Viktor protested. “The subway’s hard.”

Viktor pouted when he said this, his plump, pink lips jutting out in front of his perfect face; it was incredibly cute and Yuuri may have internally screamed. In his credit, Yuuri did do a commendable job of covering it up:

“Oh?” Yuuri asked, a teasing glint sparkling in his brown eyes. “I though you said you were a pro at navigating the subway from living in St. Petersburg, Viktor.”

“Yeah, but everything was in Cyrillic…”

 _“Heheh,”_ Yuuri snickered, then quickly and unnoticeably kissed Viktor’s cheek, drawing back just as fast, and the crowd remained ignorant. “Come on, Viktor, let’s go,” he said, taking Viktor’s hand and walking towards the correct stop. The pair was then able to successfully make their way through the crowd and just barely board the subway; thankfully, the train was nearly all about to leave, instead of being nearly entirely full. Thus, Yuuri and Viktor were able to secure a pair of seats, quietly situation in the corner; Viktor near instantly yawned and leaned his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“This is fun,” Viktor said, sounding sleepy.

“I’m glad,” Yuuri responded, somewhat weary himself from the hectic stress of a metropolitan city’s sprawling, extensive, convolution subway system. “Me too – oh, Viktor, just how do you manage to start falling asleep as soon as you get on a subway or car?” Yuuri then added, in a softer tone and volume of voice, “It’s pretty cute; you’re really pretty when you’re asleep.”

“Thank you, Yuuri,” Viktor responded, smiling up at Yuuri. “You’re gorgeous.”

Yuuri flushed, awkwardly switching his words between thanks and denial. “Not as much as you, though,” he finally said. “But really – how do you fall asleep so easily? I wish I could.”

Viktor laughed. “Actually, I used to have severe motion sickness as a child, and my mother always said to close my eyes and try to sleep; I’ve been doing that in all vehicles ever since, even though I don’t get motion sickness anymore – it’s become a habit. I’ll stay awake for you, though, my Yuuri.”

“Viktor…” Yuuri tenderly said. “That’s cheesy, but I like it,” he decided.

Viktor smiled, and truly did try to keep his promise of staying awake by talking about anything and everything; regardless of his efforts, Viktor still fell asleep, leaning on Yuuri’s shoulder, the white-grey-silver hair gracefully falling over his face. Viktor and Yuuri’s breaths eventually synchronized, and Yuuri absentmindedly ran his fingers over and through Viktor’s hair, the smooth, thin strands slipping through Yuuri’s fingers. _It better not thin; not yet,_ Yuuri thought. _I want to see him grow it out again, perhaps not as long as it was when he was seventeen, but still, I’d love to see that hair flow past his shoulders._

The subway jolted to a stop, passengers flooded in and crammed themselves together, the doors closed, the subway lurched into movement, and, through a combination of all of the listed disturbances, Viktor woke.

 _“Ah?”_ he sleepily asked. “Do we get off now?” Viktor rubbed at his bleary eyes, his nose and eyebrows endearingly scrunching up.

“We’re getting off in two stops, Viktor; that’s like maybe fifteen minutes,” Yuuri replied. “Put your coat on now, it’ll be impossible to do later; everyone’s moving and it’s just too crowded.”

Viktor nodded and removed his dark brown peacoat from his lap, putting on the garment.

“But it’s too hot in here,” Viktor then proceeded to whine, pouting. He did this over the littlest of things, and Yuuri had never been able to decide if it was intentional or natural. Either way, Yuuri was absolutely certain that it was childishly adorable. _I can’t believe he’s 27,_ Yuuri thought.

“Well, I’m sure you can last,” Yuuri checked the time on his phone, “nine minutes.”

 _“Yuuri,”_ Viktor complained.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “If you must, do so, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if the people push you over while you’re trying to get your arm in the sleeve. They don’t care if you’re Viktor Nikiforov or a random foreigner; they have places to be, and that’s all that matters.”

Yuuri’s words, while he meant them to be a warning with a joking, lighthearted tone, must have come across as much more serious than he had intended – Viktor, after brief deliberation, made the wise and informed decision to remain safely coated.

“I’ll probably end up thanking you for that, won’t I, Yuuri?” Viktor said.

“Definitely.”

The pair successfully made it off the subway car, through the busy station, up the endless flights of stairs – “I see you’re getting your exercise in, Yuuri,” Viktor had remarked while Yuuri huffed up the last ten steps – and out of the city’s subway, emerging, at last, in Umeda.

“So!” Viktor purposefully said after taking in the sights of the city. “Where are we going, Yuuri?”

“To the city,” he simply replied, grinning with the special confidence he found around Viktor.

“Alright then,” Viktor said, smiling amiably and following Yuuri down the crowded sidewalk. They walked past countless unique storefronts until they reached the one in front of which Yuuri’s eyes lit up. He pushed the door open, the bells attached to it making a pleasant little tinkling sound. It was a small place, Viktor observed, full of locals and possessing of a close, tight-knit atmosphere that was just innately exclusive. They didn’t seem the type to have an English menu – _I guess Yuuri will have to order for me; that could be cute if he gets all flustered,_ Viktor thought.

“… two, at 7:30,” Yuuri said to the hostess in Japanese, who was running her finger down that day’s reservation list.

“Ah! Here you are,” she said, then gestured to a waiter that had returned to the front. “Kishuu-san here will be your server.”

Yuuri nodded, thanking her, and walked a few steps back to Viktor, and the followed Kishuu to a secluded table at the pack; a tactful placement. Kishuu placed the two well-bound menus on the table, and Viktor’s suspicions were confirmed – fully in Japanese and no English menu available when he asked with the sparse, “survival” Japanese that he had managed to learn.

“Eh, just read me the menu, Yuuri,” Viktor said, placing his own to the side for Kishuu or another employee to collect on one of the rounds through the restaurant’s floor.

“Ah, okay, Viktor,” Yuuri replied, opening the menu’s red cover. “So, there are noodle dishes, like ramen, udon, and yakisoba; now, these are the different types of ramen…”

After a while of Yuuri briefly explaining each dish, Viktor had to intervene. “Yuuri, I think it’d be better if you just ordered for me. I appreciate the effort, but…” Viktor trailed off, letting his facial expression and Yuuri’s awareness of the situation’s oddities and inefficiency speak for themselves. Yuuri, fortunately, laughed, and simply gave the menu a cursory flip through, deciding on two items. “Do you want something specific to drink, though?” Yuuri still asked, then immediately thought better of it. “No, forget that I said that; you already had that beer,” he quickly amended, to which Viktor had to laugh.

“Fine, fine,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll just have some water or something.”

Yuuri nodded in smiling approval and motioned for the waiter. They exchanged a few quick words, Kishuu scribbling on a ticket, and the order was placed.

“What did you order, Yuuri?” Viktor asked.

“Ah, shoyu ramen for you and yakisoba for me,” Yuuri replied.

Viktor tilted his head to the side, his long half of bangs moving away from the eye it obscured. Yuuri chuckled.

“You don’t have any idea what those are, right?”

Viktor cutely pouted again. “No.”

“Just wait a bit, you’ll see.”

“Remember, Yuuri – I’m trusting you with my taste buds’ lives.”

Yuuri exasperatedly sighed and shook his head. “Always so dramatic, Viktor.”

“I’m not going to deny it, but I thought you had seen what true melodrama looks like when you saw Georgi skate.”

Yuuri considered for a moment. “Yeah, but I have to deal with you on a daily basis,” he said, very matter-of-factly.

Viktor gasped, pressing his hand, fingers splayed wide apart, against his chest. _“Deal with?_ Yuuri, I thought you loved me! Oh, I’m so hurt; I guess I’ll just have to wallow in self-pity and tears for the rest of my days. Oh, the wrinkles it’ll inflict on my perfect, beautiful face; woe is me…”

“And here you go again…”

+++

“That was so good, Yuuri!” Viktor cried right after exiting the restaurant, his breath turning into small clouds of steam in the cold air.

Knowing Viktor’s levels of enthusiasm, Yuuri took a few steps back, smiled warmly, said, “I’m glad you like it that much, Viktor,” and waited for the Russian to calm down.

“Now, where are we going, Yuuri?” Viktor asked after he had gotten over the thrill of ramen.

“Hankyu Department Store – you were needing a new coat, right?”

“Yeah, actually – how’d you know, Yuuri, I never told anyone,” Viktor asked, surprised and touched.

“You didn’t have to,” Yuuri said. “You accidentally lost your heavy winter coat at the airport and started wearing the thinner one, just with more layers underneath. But because the coat wasn’t made to be worn like that, you were always uncomfortable and it wasn’t ever worth it because you were still cold – the tips of your ears got really red and you weren’t as energetic as usual on the coldest days.”

Viktor didn’t respond for a moment, shocked, prompting irrational worrying from Yuuri: _What if he thinks that I stare at him too much because I know all that? What if I’m completely wrong? What if…_

“Oh, _Yuuri!”_ Viktor exclaimed, tightly embracing him. “I can’t believe you noticed and remembered all that! Oh, I love you so much.”

           Yuuri’s face lit up with a beaming smile, less shiny and overwhelming than Viktor’s, but all-encompassing and warm. “Of course I did,” he responded. “I love you, don’t I?”


End file.
